Questions

where I am

We're past the halfway point now of Institute, down to only two more weeks in Chicago. I found out that my school in NC will be starting about two weeks earlier than we thought, so the transition will be a little crazy. What's also crazy is the fact that in less than one month, I will have my own class of students that I get to keep for a whole year! I'm already pretty attached to the ones I've only had for two weeks. One of them works at the Field Museum, and I saw her when I was there yesterday. She did a double take and then ran up and gave me a hug. "Ms. P! Hi!" I was totally not expecting that reaction, and it made me so happy I almost cried right there. The longer I'm here, the more I realize that kids are kids are kids no matter how rough their neighborhood, and that I love teaching.


who you are

Teaching has brought questions to the foreground of most of my waking hours (which are still more of the day than i would like). I ask them, answer them, write test questions, practice questions, extra credit questions, questions about how to interpret questions, etc. So many questions, so little time. They are vital to teaching, and I think vital to life. We learn and grow by asking and answering, and I think this is as true of our faith as it is of academia. We ask questions as we walk through life and face new things, and I think God asks us questions to guide us toward him. (Which I think is awesome, but actually not my point right now...)

I read an article or a blog or something a while ago about the fact that one question God actually never asks us is "Who are you?" Its something I've been thinking about lately, because it seems the further I get from my comfort zone (which is a speck in the distance at this point), the more often I'm faced with questions like that, sometimes spoken, more often not. "Who are you?" "Who do you think you are?" "Who are you to go there, to try to do that?"

And I'm continuing to realize that God is not the one asking me. He doesn't ask who I am, He tells me. So of all the places I hear those questions, none are truth. If I spend much time entertaining questions of "Who are you to try?" I will never try anything. He won't ask "Who do you think you are?" because I am not the one with the true answer. So when I think "Who do you think you are that you can change this?" or "Who are you to even try?" I remember that those are questions He's already answered.

Maybe you're here too, or will be soon. Maybe you're ready to try something, go somewhere, make a decision, say "see ya later" to one thing and "hello" to another. And maybe you're hearing "Who are you?" If that's true, I hope that you'll learn with me that we are knit together by the God of the universe. We are his handiwork. He knows us, and His great plans for us better than we ever will. He is not the one asking us who we are, but He'll tell us if we let him. In fact, He is the answer to the question.